Back on Earth

~Part Eight~

The grass is pressed down in twin footprints where you were standing. The new grass is cool on your feet as you walk toward the road.

“That’s right,” says the first man.

The second man has yet to make a sound save his chewing of gum, rhythmic and deliberate.

You are less than fifty paces from the truck, and you can now make out more of the men’s details. The first man, the one who speaks to you, has a thick, red beard covering his face.

You don’t think you have a beard. You realize then that you haven’t yet touched your face. As you walk, you allow your fingers to come up and touch your cheek, your jaw, your chin. You do this quickly, then put your hand back down at your side. You don’t have a beard.

The first man is wearing a plaid shirt with buttons, a belt and blue jeans. The second, larger man is dressed very much the same, but does not have a beard. His face is smooth, like yours. He might even look something like you, but you can’t be sure. You don’t even know what colour your eyes are.

The first man fidgets, kicks at the gravel on the road. The second man watches you the entire time you make your way across the field.